Bells and Wishes
by LadyRach
Summary: After a hard night with her father, Annie's encounter with one of the newsies leads to a friendship that could change her life...for the better?
1. Default Chapter

I know that this is really short and all, and actualyl not really very good, but I just wanted to post it in the hopes that it will get me motivated to write more. And I promise it will get better. OK, I don't _promise_, but I fervently hope so. And I'll try to update as much as possible, but since my "spare time" consists of stolen minutes in Physics while my teacher isn't looking, I'm not making any promises there, either. Oh...just read the story. And I'll try harder next time.

* * *

The street was empty – or as empty as it ever got in New York City. The door to one of the many identical apartment buildings opened, and a girl stepped out, clutching a blanket around her shoulders. Her face was shadowed by a thick mane of dark curls. She leaned against the door frame, the moonlight slanting down on her; the whole scene had an ethereal quality about it. That is, until she started to cry. The peace was shattered, her body started to shake as though it would break apart from the force and intensity of the sobs that tore through her.

Jack, coming home from a show at Medda's, heard a faint noise and cautiously scanned the seemingly empty street. His eyes finally focused on the girl in the doorway, and, as much as he tried to fight it, the natural compassion that years on the streets hadn't been able to train out of him welled up. "I don't gotta help 'er," he thought, "she probably don't wanna talk to anybody anyway." Still, he couldn't resist taking a second look at her. He tried to harden his gaze, but the false coldness melted from his face as she began to cough, choking on her tears. Sighing as he realized that this would mean even less sleep tonight, Jack squared his shoulders and headed over to her.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Um, hi."

She looked up, eyes staring wildly, then instinctively turned away, wiping frantically at her tears. "Who – who are you?" Her voice was hoarse and weak from her cry.

"Um," Jack said again. This was far more awkward that he'd expected. "I'm Jack." In an attempt to give her time to compose herself, he continued, "I live in da Lodgin' House fer newsies a few streets down," he paused and gestured toward it vaguely. "Dat's what I am. A newsie." Another pause as she sniffed. Jack took a deep breath, "So...are you OK?"

The girl gave a shaky, tentative laugh. "Yea." He raised his eyebrows at her. "No, really I am. I know I didn't, uh, didn't really look it jus' now, but I am. Jus' a bad day, y'know?" This time, her laugh seemed forced, and she knew it.

"No yer not," Jack said calmly. "I've had bad days, an' dis ain't what dey look like."

The girl was beginning to get irritated. What right did this boy have to waltz in on her weakness, telling her to parade it around like she should be proud of it? "What are you, some kinda do-gooder?" she snapped. "I'se fine. End of story."

Jack put up his hands, "I was jus' asking," he protested, then muttered, "You sure don't look fine."

"What was that?" she asked sarcastically, "since you know me so well and everyt'ing, I shouldn't be surprised dat you can tell how I'm feeling. Maybe I'm jus' a big crier. Maybe I like cryin'. Did you ever think about dat one?" She tried to look menacing while sniffling and wiping her eyes. "You don't know the first thing about me. Not even my name."

Jack made an effort to be calm, "Well, what is it?"

She opened her mouth for a sharp reply, then seemed to choke on her words, "What?"

Jack grinned cockily, knowing that he had thrown her off. "Yer name. What is it?"

"Oh...oh, it's Annabelle," she stammered. Then she made a face, "but you can call me anyt'ing but." She started to smile, then caught herself and scowled at him.

Jack's grin widened. "Well, I'm Jack Kelly. It's nice to meet you...Annie?" The last word came out as a bit of a question, but at her shrug he repeated it more firmly. "Annie."

Annie seemed to give up on the angry approach as her face relaxed into a smile. Granted, the smile was rather shaky, and its effect was rather marred by her red, splotchy face, but it was a vast improvement over her threatening glare. "Well, Jack Kelly, I have to be getting' to bed. An' I'd guess you do, too. A newsie's day starts early, right?"

Jack nodded. "Dat's right. An' ends late," he gestured at the night sky as he began backing away. "Good night, Annie," he smiled, tugging his forelock (A/N: I've always loved that expression), "an' take care."

"Good night, Jack," she smiled softly.

She watched him as he left, then remained staring down the street long after he was gone, the same soft smile playing about her lips. "I've heard that people can be angels to one another," she mused. "I wonder if he knows that he was mine." As she turned to go in, though, her smile faded, and she unconsciously hunched her small shoulders as though she were taking up some heavy load.


	2. ch 2

I like this chapter much better. It's not as dramatic as the last one. In case you were wondering.

* * *

Jack awoke the next morning to the usual sound of Kloppman's cries: "Boys! Up! Time to get up! It's a beautiful day for sellin' papes! Mu-uuush!" he sang out as the boy tried covering his head to block out the noise, "It's morning!" He turned to Jack's bed and began poking him. Jack moaned in protest, but he was awakened sharply by Kloppman's next words. "Where were you last night, Jack? You were late for curfew."

Jack sat up quickly. "Wh-what?" He stammered articulately.

Kloppman started to laugh, "C'mon Jack, did you really think that I didn't know that the fire escape runs up to the bunkroom window? It creaks right over my room." Jack smiled uncertainly back. "So," Kloppman asked in mock sternness, eyes twinkling merrily, "where were ya?"

"I went to see Medda, an' den, on da way home, dere was dis goil –"

"Oooh, a goil, Jacky-boy?" Race's head popped up next to Jack's bunk, "You movin' on from Candy already? I know she's been hard to get over." He nudged Mush, who had come to stand next to him, and the two smirked as they recalled Jack's last girlfriend, a breathtaking beauty without a single bit more brain than necessary. Jack had finally had enough of her over two months ago, when her idiotic questions and scorn of knowledge had gotten to be too much for him, and the boys had been teasing him about her ever since.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Knock it off, you bums, it's too early for dat. Now, as I was sayin'," he turned to Kloppman with an exaggerated air of frustration at having been interrupted, "I heard dis goil cryin', so, me being da carin' fella dat I am, I stopped to see what was wrong."

"Yea right," Race muttered in an audible aside to Mush, "he probably was lookin' to score."

Mush gave the expected snigger, and Jack groaned, "Shut it, smarta—"

"No cussin' in dis Lodgin' House," Kloppman cut in smoothly. Then, catching sight of Racetrack's gleeful face, he added, "and no disrespectful talkin' 'bout goils, eidder. Now, don't you have papes to sell?" he suggested as he set about waking the rest of the boys.

Mush, Race, and Jack glanced at each other then raced for the washroom sinks, all thoughts of Annie or any other girls driven from their minds by the beginning of the daily struggle for survival.

Three streets down and two blocks over, a frail, sickly-looking man leaned over a dark-haired girl who would have looked exactly like him had he been a girl and the picture of health. He gazed down at her tear-stained face, its woes erased by sleep, and wondered desperately what had caused them and how he could fix it. He cast his mind back to the night before, but he couldn't recall anything that would have made his daughter cry. In fact, he realized, furrowing his brow, he couldn't clearly remember anything at all. After a few moments, he shrugged and shook her shoulder. "Annabelle," he called gently, "it's morning."

Her eyes opened slowly and another deviation from her father's looks was revealed; she must have inherited her startling green eyes from her mother. She stretched, yawning out, "Mornin' Da."

"You got time fer a bite o' breakfast wit' yer ole man dis mornin'?"

Annie smiled sadly, "No, Da, I don't. I never do. An' you don't eidder, remember? You gotta get down to da docks dis mornin'."

Her father suddenly looked nervous. "Oh, uh, about dat..." he began fidgeting, tugging on his shirt, then looked up at her hopefully, brown eyes meeting green in a helpless plea.

It was not answered. "You got fired? Again?" Annie exploded incredulously, "Da, that's the thoid time in t'ree months! You gotta be more responsible."

He looked down, abashed, "I know, Annie, I know," he sighed heavily, "I know I'm not da fadder I should be, but –"

Looking suddenly ashamed, Annie cut him off, "No, Da, I'm sorry." She put a hand on his shoulder, "you're a wonderful fadder, da best, an' I'm sure you'll find a new job. A better one! An', in da meantime, I'll work harder. But I gotta go now." With that said, she stood up, grabbed her dress, and hurried into the bathroom.

Her father stared after her for a moment, then put his head in his hands with a desperate wail, "Oh, Caroline, why did you leave me?"

"Factory's policies unfair! Officials object! Extry, extry!" Race smiled as he was swarmed by interested citizens hoping that their jobs would get better if politicians took on factory policies as an issue. Race scurried away before he had to see disappointment register on the hopeful faces as they saw the real headline: "Visiting Official Objects to Factory's Narrow Doors," depicting a rotund fellow scowling as he squeezed sideways on an inspection. As he ambled away, Race wondered how people could be so gullible as to believe that maybe this time the newsie they were buying from wasn't "improving the truth," as it were.

Suddenly, the tracks were looming before him. Race stared at them, wiping his forehead and mentally calculating how much longer it would be before he had finished selling his papers and could watch the races. He looked down at the twenty-seven papers he was still holding, considered his growling stomach, and, shrugging, decided that he could skip lunch and sell them later. That way, he realized, smirking, he couldn't bet all of his money on the horses. Holding the smirk and hoping that the confidence he felt wasn't ill-founded, he headed to the booths to place a bet.

Two hours later, Race stumbled out of the tracks, a crushed, defeated look on his face. "When am I gonna learn?" he muttered, "Why do I always gotta bet on da long shot?" He grimaced. He knew why.

FLASHBACK

_A tiny, dark-haired Italian boy gazed adoringly at his father as they walked, trying to match his short, trotting steps to the older man's smooth, lengthy stride. "Papa," the boy panted, "where are we going?"_

_The man smiled down at him. "You'll see soon enough, Anthony," he replied, the Italian accent heavy on his tongue._

"_I bet I can guess," the little boy drew himself up. "Um...the zoo? I like the zoo. Especially the monkeys..." And so, punctuated by Anthony's guesses and dissertations on each guess, the walk continued. "...and I've always liked ice cream, and –"_

"_Anthony," his father interrupted, "we're here."_

_Anthony looked around, skepticism of the fun to be found in this place warring on his features with blind trust in his father's judgment. "Where are we?" he asked slowly._

"_The Sheepshead Races," his father replied, "You'll like it, I promise." The two headed for the stands, Anthony staring around, quietly absorbing information to chatter about later, as was his wont. After explaining the standings and odds to his son, Anthony's father said, "Whaddaya say we root for 'Silver Bells?'"_

_Confused, Anthony stared at the race stats, "Papa, all the odds are against him."_

"_I know," his father chuckled, "but I've always had a weak spot for the long shot. Reminds me o' me when I first came to America."_

_Anthony grinned in response, and his father swung the boy onto his sturdy shoulders as they excitedly sheered Silver Bells to victory._

END FLASHBACK

Race shook himself abruptly, raised a paper, and shouted, "Factory Policies Unfair! Officials Object!" then shook his head in disbelief as people rushed to buy from him.

He rounded the corner, exalting in the fact that he only had fourteen papers left, when Jack's grinning face appeared before him. Race cursed as he stumbled backward, and Jack started to laugh. Scowling, Race turned to leave, but Jack easily fell into step beside him, asking, "Y'know what the problem is wit' headlines like dat?"

Without looking at him, Race sarcastically replied, "Dey sell out too fast?"

Jack barked out a short laugh. "No, dey attract all da wrong people."

Race stared at him incredulously, "What, da kind who wanna buy 'em?"

"No, stupid," Jack rolled his eyes, "da kind who don't have money to burn. Factory workers are da only people who wanna read articles like dat, an' dey don't got a single penny more dan da one sey're spendin' already. You don't get no tips dat way."

"Is dat so?" Race asked nonchalantly, lighting a cigarette.

"Sure it is!" Jack exclaimed, "Dat's why I always got more money dan you." He looked slyly at Race out of the corner of his eye, "or maybe dat's because yer always blowin' it on yer 'hot tips' at da tracks."

After thwacking Jack soundly over the head with his papers, Race scurried off a few steps, and, with a meaningful look at Jack, yelled, "Robberies abound! Streets unsafe fer da wealthy!"

Jack laughed and walked away as Race was surrounded by wealthy businessmen pressing nickels into his hands.

* * *

Thankyou to all of my wonderful reviewers who...um...reviewed. To everyone else: become a faithful reviewer! That is all.

**AngryPrincess:** Thanks for reviewing, mon amie! Here is an update just for you.

**koodles: **my faithful reviewer! I'm so glad you're back. Writing fanfic wouldn't be the same without you! I managed to get some of it done in homeroom, so that's good.

**bitemytoe: **Yea, I thought that was sweet, too. How pathetic, I review my own story and I'm touched by it.

**Lisa: **That's a really nice compliment! I'll try to keep it up. Thank you for reading.


	3. ch 3

Sorry I haven't updated in a while (I'm beginning to sound like a broken record) but I have an excuse besides school this time: I was recruiting another newsies fan. That's right, folks, my friend Tinsley (great name, huh?) is now joining our ranks. In other news, Calculus and college essays aren't going so hot, so I might have to take long breaks between updates. But don't worry. I love this story too much to let it die. Although I think it's getting to complicated...too many backgrounds and relationships. Oh well.

* * *

That night, as usual, Jack slipped out of the Lodging House and walked to Medda's. Nodding to Jacob, the security guard who had replaced Toby the clown when Medda's audiences started getting rowdier, Jack took his customary place just offstage to watch the show. Medda caught sight of him and smiled, then turned her attention back to the audience. After her performance, Medda bowed to the men and boys whooping and cheering her name, then ran offstage to give Jack a hug. "Glad to see you, Kelly," she said, kissing the top of his head. She released him, and, holding him at arm's length, said, "I really am. But why have I been seein' ya so much lately, kid? Why aren't ya with your friends?" 

Jack sighed, throwing down the cigarette he'd been holding. "I don't know," he said slowly as he stomped it out, "I jus'...I don't like nights alone."

Medda looked at him sympathetically, "But you're not alone, Kelly. You've got the newsies."

Jack shrugged, "Durin' da day, da boys are fine – dey're great – dey're family," he paused, staring at the ground, "but at night, especially lately, I don't feel like da rest of 'em." He looked up, and empty smile on his face, "I didn't have da best life before now."

"None of them did, Jack," Medda exclaimed, shocked, "You, of all people, should know that! They tell you, they all tell you how their parents beat them or left them or died, how they've starved for years, so many things!"

"Not Davey," Jack answered sullenly, "not all of 'em. An' ever since da strike, it's like dey t'ink I'm perfect, that my life is perfect, but it ain't!" Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the wall, "An' dey tell me deir pasts an' expect me to fix 'em. An' I jus' can't." He stared wildly at Medda for a moment, then, dropping his gaze, he whispered, "Dey tell me everyt'ing when dey're feelin' bad...mostly at night." He sounded ashamed.

Medda looked at him for a long moment, then pulled him into a wordless hug. Directing Jacob to "keep things under control," she led Jack off to give him the mothering he needed.

Jack left the theatre an hour or two later. As the cold air hit him, he cursed himself for forgetting his jacket. "You'd t'ink I'd know by now dat jus' cause it's warm in da daytime, don't mean it ain't gonna be cold at night, "he remarked to no one. Shaking his head, he began to jog lightly as he headed home, where, unbeknownst to him, three of his friends were worrying about him.

AT THE SAME TIME

In the middle of a casual game of poker in the otherwise-empty attic, Blink suddenly put down his cards and said, thoughtfully, "I'se t'ink dere's somethin' wrong wit' Jack."

Race took his cigar out of his mouths and replied, "I'se t'ink dere's somethin' wrong wit you. Pick up dose cards, boy."

Blink rolled his eye, "C'mon, Race, I'm sure you've noticed it. You notice everyt'ing'."

Race sighed and, stacking his cards neatly, began tapping the stack against his chin, a distracting habit that he had picked up from the same boy who had once taught him to play poker. "Yes," he dragged the word out, then spoke quickly, "I've noticed dat he don't stay 'ere in da evenings, an' dat 'e looks scared when one o' da boys, 'specially da newer ones, tries to talk to 'im alone."

Mush looked blankly back and forth between Blink and Race, who were staring intently at each other, then he shrugged, seeming to accept their judgement, "So, what're we gonna do about it?"

"Nothing!" Race exploded, "This always happens, Mush; someone has a problem an' you wanna jus' sail right in an' fix it!"

"Jack would do it fer us," Mush held out staunchly.

"'E has a point, Race," Blink said hesitantly.

Race shook his head firmly, then gestured to the cards, "Whaddaya got?" he asked flatly, all enthusiasm gone.

The other two glanced at their cards. "Nothing," Mush sighed, and, "Nothing," Blink threw his cards back down.

"I win again," Race started to rake in his meager profits, but Mush stopped him with a hand on the pile.

Race refused to look up, as Mush insisted, "Jack would do da same fer us."

Annie bit back a yelp as she pricked herself yet again with the needle. She glanced around furtively to see if anyone had noticed – this was the third time in an hour, and, frankly, she couldn't afford that many slips. It had taken her a long time and a lot of skill to get a job this cushy; it wasn't time to mess up now. The rapid movement of her needle slowed as she mused on the fact that her mother's lessons, to which she had so objected as a child, had turned out to be so practical.

Then, furiously, she tore her mind from images of her mother, sewing with short, angry jabs. "I'm getting' to be as bad as 'im," she muttered under her breath.

Race held out for two nights; Mush's blunt, hopeful appears to Race's "better nature," and Blink's more subtle arguments wore him down until, two nights later, he found himself flanked by Mush and Blink, asking Jack if he "wanted to go to a show or somethin'."

"A show?" Jack asked suspiciously, peering at the boys.

Race's poker face held, and Blink's huge grin wasn't terribly unusual, but the ever-innocent Mush flushed guiltily.

Jack's eyes narrowed, but before he could make up an excuse, Race spoke up again, surprising Mush and Blink with the gentleness in his voice, "C'mon, Jacky-boy, you haven't had a night out since...forever. You always gotta take care of everyone. Have some fun fer once."

Jack grinned slightly, regarding the three boys who stood in front of him, helping him as well as they could. He grabbed his coat and said, "OK, let's go."

The three conspirators grinned at each other and followed him out the door.

Annie was having a particularly bad night. "Da," she pleaded, "jus' go to bed, alright?"

"Maybe you're right," her father slurred, "I'm getting' tired."

Annie almost wept with relief as he stumbled to his bedroom. After she finished putting him to bed, she slumped in a chair in the main room. She had only been sitting for a few seconds, though, before she felt the walls closing in on her. Disregarding coat or wrap, she rushed out the door and down the stairs.

She ran through the streets as fast as she could, hair streaming behind her, lungs screaming, until she finally had to stop from exhaustion. She looked around to get her bearings and saw a sign proclaiming to passersby that they had reached the "Newsboys' Lodging House." The name reminded her of someone, a pleasant memory. She tried to think...but before she could remember him, the object of her thoughts strolled out of the door under the sign, accompanied by two other boys.

Three lost boys and one lonely girl, all in need of help and friendship. They're about to meet.

* * *

To the tune of the new Oscar Meyer commercial (_My bologna has a first name/It's O-s-c-a-r..._) 

There is a lovely little button/At the botton of the screen/And if you click it right now/You'll see what I mean/When I say,/That button makes me happy/It doesn't take too long/So please just click it right now/And I'll sing all day long. Hey!

**koodles: **I will always have time in class to write because, otherwise, I would ahve to actually listen to my teacher. And we can't have that.

**AngryPrincess:** another chapter for you to enjoy...

**Mydela: **computers are _tres stupide_, I agree. Did I just impress you with my French? Want me to say something else in French? Well, I can't. That's about all three years of high school French did to me. Not that you care. But in case you do, now you know. Know what? I have no idea what I'm talking about. I need to take a nap.


	4. ch 4

Look, ma! Two updates in two days! I love three-day weekends.

* * *

Annie turned away in confusion, willing him not to look at her, to see her once more in weakness, but, of course, not being blind, Jack couldn't help but see what was right in front of him.

"Hey!" he said in surprise, frantically trying to remember her name. Then, as he noticed her wide, staring eyes, "Are you OK?"

She grinned despite herself, "D'ya think all of our talks hafta start dat way...Jack Kelly?"

He shrugged, not trusting himself with an answer until he could remember her name. Then he cursed Race's stupidity as the boy asked, with mock elegance, "Dear me, Jacky-boy, where have yer manners gone? Ain't ya gonna interduce us to da lovely lady?"

"I dunno," Jack glared down at him, "she's a nice enough goil, she don't really deserve dat."

Annie laughed as the other three paused momentarily, then threw themselves at their insulter, tackling and punching him. After a few moments, she interrupted. "Never mind, I can introduce myself," she cleared her throat, "Da name's Annabelle Johnson, but –"

"But you can call 'er Annie," Jack finished triumphantly. _Ha!_ He thought, _I knew I remembered her name._

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Annie," Mush said, taking off his hat. The others followed suit, and Annie found herself blushing at the attention, although, since it was a customary one, she couldn't figure out why. She supposed it was because they were so adorably poor and yet cheerful, their tattered coats and dirty faces lending a gallantry to their actions. Then she gasped as she realized that Mush was looking at her with an expectant look on his face, waiting for an answer to...something. "I'm sorry," she said ruefully, "I didn't hear any of dat. What did you say?"

Race and Blink laughed as a smiling Jack answered, "Basically, 'e asked if you'd wanna come wit us? We're goin' to a show...or somethin'."

Annie wondered why he looked so suspiciously at his friends as he said that, but she just shrugged it off, replying, "Dat's alright, but t'anks fer da invite. I gotta be getting' back home."

"Why?" Mush asked curiously, then, "Ow!" as Race hit him in the back of the head.

"Sorry 'bout dat," Blink offered, "'e don't seem to realize dat dere's jus' some questions you don't ask on da streets."

Annie waved an acceptance as she thought. Why was she refusing them? For her father was the automatic answer, but, really, he didn't need her. He would sleep straight through the night and probably much of the next day. Mind made up, she turned to address herself to Mush. "There really is no reason," she answered firmly, "I'd love to go wit you'se guys to a show...or somethin'," she imitated Jack's tone and look, receiving appreciative laughs.

"So, where are we goin'?" Annie asked a few minutes later, after a pause in the teasing and roughhousing that automatically took place. Annie was quickly included in the fun; it was easy to fall into a friendly matter on the streets, where there were no questions asked and no permanence expected. It was true friendship that was hard to come by.

Blink and Mush glanced at each other, "Well, dere's dat vaudeville theatre just off Broadway," Blink offered.

"Yea, I hear da shows're pretty good down dere," Mush continued.

Jack stopped short. "Wait," he said menacingly, "ain't dere a 'no-drinkin' rule down dere?"

"Well..." Mush said evasively.

"An' ain't dere a 'no-gamblin' rule down dere?" it was amazing that a scrawny, smart-aleck Italian could look that dangerous.

"Mush an' I were talkin', an' we don't think dat da two o' you'se need to be doin' all dat tonight," Blink answered. "Jus' fer tonight, you can watch a vaudeville an' bum around wit friends wit'out doin' nuttin' else."

An open-mouthed Race turned to Annie in a wordless appeal, but she laughingly threw her hands up, saying, "Don't bring me into dis. I ain't takin' no sides."

"Fine," Jack muttered, "but dis show better be real good." Race grumbled something that couldn't properly be called assent, but served as such, and a considerably more cheerful Blink and Mush took up their previous conversation with Annie.

Much to the surprise of Jack and Race, the night passed pleasantly enough, helped along by the close, easy camaraderie that the group felt, and the complementary personalities that each contributed. Race's constant sarcasm and cynical wit, though much softened by his baby-face and natural kindness (which, as evidenced, had to be dragged out by brute force) kept them laughing, but were tempered by Mush's sweet innocence. Blink's constant grin and happy-go-lucky attitude lifted Jack's occasional gloomy moods, and Jack's dreams and charisma in his good moods added sparkle. Annie offered an affinity for helping others by sharing their burdens, although she, too, fell into gloom. Overall, the group was well-suited to each other, and they were loathe to split up at the night's end, resulting in them staying up much later than was wise.

Cries of "G'night," and, "See ya 'round, Annie," filled the air as Annie, with a wave and a smile, turned to enter her apartment building. But, before she was completely in the door, Jack detached himself from the group of boys in the street and hurried to her, telling her quietly, "Really, Annie, come an' visit us again. Or else we'll have to find you," he threatened. "Oh, an' Annie?" she looked at him expectantly, "keep yer chin up, OK? I don't wanna find you upset anytime soon."

She smiled at him gratefully, then slipped through the door.

The late night had its ill effects. Annie awakened late the next morning, rushing out of the house without even checking on her father. She stopped at the door to grab her coat, then halted in surprise as she saw another coat on top. "Oh no..." she muttered, as she realized whose it was. As they had walked out of the vaudeville, one of the boys had noticed her lack of warm clothing, and, as Race was the closest to her size, he had offered her his coat, answering her protests with a hearty, "No, I'm actually getting' hot. An' I have dis hat, anyway. I'll let you know if I get cold." Although she had seen him visibly shivering throughout the night, she knew better than to insult him by offering his coat back.

"An' now he's probably freezin' outside wit' nuttin' to keep 'im warm," she said aloud, and had started on her way to the Lodgin House, coat in hand, before remembering that the days had been warm, if the nights weren't, Race would be running around, working up a sweat, and she had absolutely no idea where he sold. Vowing to herself that she would bring it to him that very night, she threw the coat over her arm and started the walk to work – a walk that soon turned into a run as she caught sight of a nearby clock and was reminded of her lateness.

Annie made it to work with absolutely no time to spare and was forced to sit down and begin sewing without even catching her breath so that she would look busy and punctual when the shop owner, a wiry, grey-haired woman known only as 'Miz' Harney came over for inspection.

She congratulated herself again, as she did every day, on finding this job. It hadn't been easy, she reminded herself. She had seen her share of factory smoke and dangerous drunks in bars before she had put her mother's lessons to use in this fine sewing shop. She bent her head industriously over her work as she felt Ms. Harney's eyes on her.

As she left work that evening, Annie was reminded of her morning's promise by the sight of Race's coat over her own in the coatroom. She sighed; bringing the coat to the Lodging House didn't seem as appealing now that she remembered her father and the fact that the boys would either want her to visit or wish that she would leave. At the moment, she couldn't decide which she would rather.

Still, a promise is a promise, so, after checking to make certain that her father would be alright without her that night – he could usually take care of himself for a while after really bad nights – she headed out to the Lodging House, this time properly attired and with a more peaceful mind. At least, until she reached the doorstep. Then, every imaginable scenario occurred to her: what if the boys didn't really like her? What if they had only been nice to her out of pity? What if they made fun of her and threw her out? For a moment she debated simply leaving the coat on the doorstep, but Jack had told her to visit. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

She was greeted by the sight of a dizzying number of boys of different ages, sizes, and nationalities. A quick look around didn't reveal to her any of her four friends, and she was struck with another sickening what if: were her friends even there?

Much to her relief, Mush stood up from a small crowd of boys, calling, "Race, Blink, Jack! We gots ourselves a visitor!" Then he paused, "Oh yeah, Blink's out wit Samantha tonight."

Annie managed a small smile of greeting as the three extricated themselves from their respective activities, weaving their ways through bodies and card games to reach Annie at the door.

"I – I came to give you back yer coat," Annie gestured at Race, uncomfortably aware that Mush's loud announcement, while serving its purpose of getting Jack's and Race's attention, had also drawn to her the attention about half the room. Boys everywhere were nudging each other and muttering, some with grins and others with looks of curiosity.

While the other two boys chattered away at Annie of their excitement that she had come, the alert Racetrack watched her carefully, then whispered, "Dey don't bite, ya know. It's jus' dat we don't get too many goils in 'ere, an' you'se particularly pretty."

Annie flushed, not certain whether Race's comment had reassured her or not, but, before she could decide or reply, one of the boys on the floor shouted, "Don't jus' leave 'er standin' out dere all night! Bring 'er in an' interduce 'er 'round!" This idea was seconded by most of the others, and Mush turned to oblige, but Race and Jack cut them off.

"Wait, guys –"

"Hold it, ya bummers –"

The two looked at each other in surprise, then Race gestured at Jack, who said, grinning, "Annie don't look all dat comfortable wit dat idea."

Annie blushed again, but stood her ground. "Who said I wasn't," she retorted, "an' I would, only...I'se got stuff to do."

"Da same stuff as last night, right, Annie," Race chortled.

Annie rolled her eyes, and, with some trepidation, allowed herself to be led into the room full of boys. Loud boys. Loud boys who were all _staring_ at her. She practically jumped out of her skin when Mush announced from her side, "Dis is Annie, everyone," he looked around, then, "she's real nice," he ended lamely.

Annie did what came naturally in such a situation: she laughed. "T'anks, Mush, fer dat lovely interduction." The rest of the boys laughed, too, and she found herself more at ease. At least, a little more. She was still ready to bolt the instant an opening presented itself, but, as it didn't look as though the boys were going to clear a path anytime soon, she resigned herself to trying to memorize the long list of nicknames that sent her head spinning.

The boys laughed again at her dazed expression, and Annie settled herself safely between Mush and Jack, watching the poker game to her right and occasionally joining in the conversation. This time, though, she had no trouble leaving at a decent hour, and she breathed a sigh of relief as Jack and Mush – Race had refused to leave the poker game: "I'm winning," he had said in disbelief as they suggested he quit playing – again shouted their goodbyes at her doorstep.

"The newsies are nice enough," she mused, "but I don't like 'em in big doses like dat. Gimme those four every time over da whole bunch."

* * *

Oh no! I'm losing reviewers! They're dropping like flies! I can only hope that this is due to the super-quick updates catching everyone by surprise. Thanks to those who did review, and to those who didn't, shame on you! OK, actually, I'll admit it: I don't always review either. There, I said it. And...I'm sorry wails.

**koodles:** I want to see the ABCs of newsies. Sounds quite interesting to me. And backwards-cursive-newsie names is an impressive feat, although one could argue its purpose. And I'm determined to spread the newsie love. Maybe, if enough people are insane fans, Disney will put it back in theatres! And I can go see it! Every night!

**AngryPrincess:** Look how fast I updated this time! Are you proud of me? Because you should be.


	5. ch 5

It's short, but I wanted to let y'all know that I am, in fact, still here. My computer's been broken, and I've had a rough week, what with Hurrican Ivan and all. My parents were out of town when the city ordered an evacuation, so I was stuck with driving my three younger siblings from New Orleans, LA to Dallas, Texas. Woohoo. And let me just tell you, it was bumper-to-bumper all the way. It normally takes one hour to get from NO to Baton Rouge; it took six. Hours. Without getting over twenty. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it. Fortunately I found that I can sort of watch Newsies on our portable DVD player without looking at the screen too much while driving in non-moving traffic. (This is a very unsafe thing to do. Don't try it)

Oh, and the OOOO are shifts or breaks or whatever. Nothing else works!!

* * *

The next day was Sunday – not the boys' favorite day. People went out with their families on Sundays, people went to Church on Sundays. Overall, people were less likely to buy papers on Sundays, even if those who did gave more tips. And there was nothing more depressing on a bad selling day than watching kids who were provided for spend time with parents and siblings who loved them. Of course, many of the boys argued that most families weren't like that all of the time, that Sundays were just their day to shine, but it was easy to believe what was right in front of you. People looked happy, and that made the newsies feel their suffering more acutely.

Race turned away from selling a paper to see a young man carrying a boy on his shoulders. The man was grinning as he teased his son, and the boy looked as though there were no place he could imagine being happier. Race clenched his jaw as he watched them until they faded into the crowd. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned fiercely on a man with two pennies in his outstretched hand. He quickly, desperately, arranged his features into a grateful smile – his patented customer smile, with just the right mixture of brave suffering, gratitude, and suppressed spirit – and took the two pennies, thanking the man politely as he handed him the paper with a flourish.

Dropping the pennies into his pocket, Race fell back into brooding. A few minutes later, another man walked up to him, family in tow, and Race fell into the same performance. This time, though, he forced himself to pay attention to the task at hand. He had to sell these papers if he wanted to stay ahead. "I need to find me a new sellin' spot where dere ain't so much to t'ink about." Even though he started thinking of places, Race knew that he would never move. He went through this at least once a week – had even moved a couple of times – but he just couldn't seem to give it up.

Shaking his head in disgust, Race raised a paper and began shouting a headline, "Extry, extry! -- "

OOOOO

"-- Da dark truth behind da cities' orphanages!" Jack smiled sympathetically at the woman who dragged her family over to him to buy a paper, clutching her young daughter as though to protect her from any nuns who might try to steal her.

"It's just terrible the way those poor children are treated," she told Jack shrilly.

"Yes ma'am," Jack nodded solemnly, taking her penny and handing her a paper. As the lady turned away, he added, "I know, I used to be in one." His breath caught on the last few words, and he lowered his eyes, keeping them just high enough to gauge her reaction.

He cheered mentally as he watched her facial expression change from indignance to pity. "Oh, Frank, can't we spare another penny for this poor boy? He needs it more than us."

"Frank" sighed, but reached into his pocket, even as Jack protested, "Oh, no, ma'am, I couldn't, I – well, I jus' couldn't!"

"No, no, you must accept it. It's the least I can do," she answered, pressing it firmly into his hand. "Take care of yourself, my dear."

Jack smiled gratefully at her until she turned the corner, when he looked at the penny in his hand and, chuckling, dropped it into his pocket as he picked another nice-looking woman to work on.

OOOOO

"Aw, man, she came last night?" Blink asked. "I wouldn't o' expected to see 'er fer anudder week at least. If at all."

"Yep," Mush told his selling partner, "she came to give Race his coat, an' we made 'er stay fer a while an' meet all da guys an' all."

They were interrupted by a middle-aged man wanting to buy a paper. As he walked away, having made the exchange to his satisfaction, Blink said, "Bachelor. Rich by 'imself, but not if 'e had a family." Mush nodded his agreement, then Blink asked, "So what did dey t'ink of 'er?" Mush looked at him, confused, and Blink rolled his eyes. "Annie. What did da guys t'ink of Annie?"

Mush shrugged. "Not very much, I guess. Dey were kinda surprised at first – we don't get too many goils in da Lodgin' House," Blink grunted his agreement, "but, after a while, most of 'em jus' fergot she was dere." He reflected for a moment, then said, "Yeah, I guess dat me an' Jack were da only ones who really talked to 'er much."

"What 'bout Race?" Blink asked, after selling a paper to a young girl who Mush classified as "twelve-year-old wit' parents. Better off dan us, but dat's about it."

Mush rolled his eyes. "You know how Race gets when he's playin' poker. He got up to say 'hi,' but dat's all."

Blink laughed. "Da children of our city are at risk!" he yelled, then turned to Mush, "I'm lovin' dis orphanage story. 'Specially on Sunday, when everyone's out wit dere families."

Mush grinned back, muttering, "Happy family approaching. Dey're poor, but doin' alright. Deir Pop's workin' 'is tail off to keep 'em in school, even dough dey wanna get out an' work too."

The papers were exchanged, and Blink replied, a bit angrily, "Mush, you t'ink everyone's happy, don't you? Dat guy's a drunk, an' 'e smacks 'is kids aroun' whenever dey do somethin' wrong. Prob'bly 'is wife, too. 'E burns all da money 'is family earns on booze, an' 'is kids'll run away when it gets too bad."

Mush was quiet for a moment, but, just as Blink turned to apologize, Mush said, "I know," very softly. Then, more brightly, he asked, nudging Blink, "So how was yer night wit' Samantha, eh?" and the rest of their time was spent in teasing as Blink extolled the virtues of his beloved new girlfriend.

OOOOO

"I hate Sundays," Annie said in disgust, putting her groceries on the counter with a thump.

The girl behind the counter looked up in surprise, then laughed, "Oh, hello Annie," she greeted in a thick Irish brogue. Then, "an' why do ya hate Sundays, lass? You're off on Sundays."

"Exactly, Katie" Anne replied. "So Sundays are market days, an' I lose money instead of earnin' it."

Katie rolled her eyes, "Yes, but _you're off on Sundays_," she emphasized, "and you don't even go to Church. I have to wake up even earlier than usual to get that in before I sneak off here."

Annie started to laugh. "The Irish," she said, "place too much emphasis on the Sabbath. I've never met anyone else who had to 'sneak off' to work so their parents wouldn't get angry."

"My da doesn't think I should work on the Sabbath," Katie said, with the air of someone continuing an old argument. She held out the bag of groceries that she had been addin up during the conversation, "The usual, love."

Annie counted out change, then picked up the bag and turned to go. A moment later, though, she turned back around. "Y'know why I really hate Sundays?" she asked wistfully. At Katie's encouraging look she continued, "My mother used to love them," her voice got soft, as it always did when she spoke of her mother, "they were her days off, too, and she would spend the whole day with me and Da, an' we'd play all day." She looked up to see pity flit across Katie's face, and her voice grew bitter as she turned to leave again. "I hate Sundays."

* * *

Once again, I am losing reviewers. Where have they all gone?

**koodles:** Not listening in science is a valid excuse for anything. And I await the ABCs of Newsies with bated breath. ((begins turning blue even as she protests)) No, I'm fine, I can do it.

**Mydela:** Oh yeah? Well, if you're a pineapple, I'm a -- wait, what am I saying? I can't believe your insight, I thought I was being subtle. Not taht I'm dropping plot hints or anything. Just -- wow.


	6. ch 6

Wow, y'all, I am so bad at regular updating. It's this ridiculous school thing that they keep making me go to. Anyway, here it is, folks. Better than last time, I hope.

* * *

Nearly a week passed before Annie saw the newsies again. Sundays always left her in a bad mood, and this particular one had been followed by several bad nights with her father; she was in no mood for a break from routine. However, the boys had different plans the Friday following Annie's visit to the Lodging House.

"So, whaddaya wanna do tonight?" Mush asked his apparently constant companions as they headed back to the Lodging House after a day of selling.

Race and Blink glanced up and shrugged. They walked in silence for a few more moments before Race suggested, "We could go visit Annie." Blink shrugged again, and Race said, "it don't seem like she does much, y'know? She should have fun more."

Blink looked up sharply, a broad grin on his face, and replied, "So she shouldn't be spendin' time wit you, den?"

Mush's laughter interrupted any comeback that Race could offer. After he had stopped laughing, Mush suddenly said, "I t'ink we should go visit Annie, too. Only, let's get Jack foist."

Race rolled his eyes and, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, shouted, "Why do you send me these do-gooders as my friends, God? You got some twisted sense o' humor."

"Hey, you're da one who said Annie 'should have fun more,'" Blink retorted, "Don't blame us.

"Even worse, dat must mean you're rubbin' off on me!" Race shuddered and brushed at his arms as though he could feel little germs of niceness invading his body.

Mush grinned, "Aw, c'mon, Race, bein' nice ain't all dat bad." He paused, then continued with a gleeful smile, "In fact, I t'ink it's quite _nice_."

Race and Blink stared at him, then Race broke the silence. "Dat was, quite possibly, da dumbest joke I've ever heard." Mush started to laugh. "No, I'se serious," Race insisted, "Dat was bad. Don't ever say anyt'ing like dat again."

By this time they had reached the Lodging House, and Mush stopped laughing long enough to say, "I'se gonna go see if Jack wants to come wit us to go see Annie. Since dat's what we seem to be doin' tonight."

Blink shook his head as Mush left, chuckling again, to head upstairs. Looking thoughtfully after him, he said, "Sometimes I worry about dat boy." Then he laughed and slapped Race on the back as the two of them followed Mush up the stairs.

When they reached the bunkroom, they saw an elated Mush talking to Jack. Mush waved them over as they walked in, saying, "Jack t'inks it's a great idea. 'E said 'e was goin' dis weekend anyway."

Jack nodded in affirmation, "Yea, I like 'er, an' I t'ink she likes us, too. An' she don't seem like da kinda goil to 'ave too many friends." Then, realizing how that had sounded, he corrected himself, "I mean, she seems kinda like a loner."

The other three nodded in agreement, then headed to their respective bunks to change quickly and get ready. Then they left together to find Annie.

OOOOO

Annie stared stonily ahead as she washed the dishes, ignoring the sobbing that occasionally issued from somewhere behind her in the otherwise empty apartment. At least, it seemed as though she were staring stonily ahead; a close observer would notice that her eyelids flickered and her muscles tensed nearly imperceptibly at every cry. Shouting was coming from outside, but Annie ignored that as well; at least, she did until realizing that the shouts took the form of her name.

"Annie!" "Annie, it's us! We dunno what apartment yer in, dough!" "Where da hell are you?"

Then, quieter, "What if she ain't 'ere tonight, guys?"

Annie listened for a while, an amused smile slowly growing on her face, then, with a long look over her shoulder, she bit her lip and dropped the dishes into the sink. She ran over to the window, stuck her head out, and yelled, "Oy! Over 'ere, dummies!" She grinned as four boys jogged around the side of the building. "What're you doin'?"

The boys exchanged embarrassed glances, before Jack spoke up. "We decided to come visit you," he said with his usual charm.

"Well, I guessed dat," Annie replied sarcastically, "I mean, what're you doin' runnin' 'round da apartment yellin' like a buncha drunks?"

No one answered as the four again shared looks of discomfort. Finally, Mush stepped forward, "Um, well, we got 'ere an' den we realized dat we don't actually know which 'partment is yours," he said sheepishly. "So we'se jus' tryin' to find you."

Annie tried to stop it. Really, she did. But she just couldn't help the laugh that exploded out of her, leaving her holding onto the window frame for support. The embarrassment on the boys' faces changed to mock-scowls as they waited for her to stop. "Alright," Race yelled, "are ya comin' or not? 'Cause if yer jus' gonna sit dere an' laugh at us, I t'ink we'se gonna leave."

"No," Annie replied, straightening up, "I'se comin'," she left the window, then returned briefly to say, "It's 32A, by the way." She rushed to her cot and pulled out the suitcase that lay under it. Opening it, she revealed that the suitcase served as a sort of closet/boudoir to hold her clothes. She quickly changed her wet, sudsy clothes, grabbed the shoes that lay next to the cot, and rushed out of the door, still pulling on her jacket. When she reached the street, she greeted the boys by running up behind them and shouting in Jack's ear. Everyone turned around, startled, then laughed as Jack attempted to turn his yelp of surprise into a greeting.

Jack grinned ruefully, "Alright, alright, stop laughin', ya bummers, or I'll soak you."

Race immediately stopped laughing, though his eyes danced with laughter. "Jack, you wouldn't soak Ahhh!—Annie, would you?" Annie, Blink, and Mush started laughing again, although Race managed, with supreme effort, to hold a straight face.

Jack looked at them for a moment, then said drily, "Yeah. Well. I'm jus' gonna go now. Follow me whenever you've decided to stop laughin'." He turned and walked away, and the other four, still laughing, stumbled after him.

After a while, Annie asked, "Where we goin', Jack?"

"Irvin' Hall," Jack answered casually, then, as he saw no answering comprehension on Annie's face, he explained, "It's dis vaudeville jus' down da road," he waved his hand in its general direction, "an' da woman who owns it – Medda – she's a doll. Always lookin' out fer us."

"An' she let's us 'ave it to ourselves one night a week," Blink added excitedly, "Says it keep us outta trouble."

"An' dat night," Jack finished, "is tonight. So, Miss Annie, would you care to accompany us to Irvin' Hall fer a night o' da finest entertainment dis 'ere city has to offer?"

Annie smiled and shrugged, "Sure. Not dat I seem to 'ave a choice 'ere." She raised her eyebrows as Jack offered her his arm, but she took it, then laughed and imitated him as Jack began pretending to be what he termed "one o' dose muckety-mucks."

The other three watched them, then Race offered his arm to Blink. Blink gaped at him for a moment, then took it and began to simper and giggle, all the while commenting on his "pretty, pretty dress." This, of course, distracted Jack and Annie, who watched in amazement. Mush followed them, doubled over with laughter, and in this way the quintet traveled to Irving Hall.

When they got there, Blink was swept away by a pretty blonde who was briefly introduced to Annie as "Blink's goil, Samantha." Anne gathered that she had come to Irving Hall to see if Blink was there and waited until he came. Annie was reintroduced to many of the newsies whom she had met the previous Saturday, as well as many she had not met. The boys were just as loud and obnoxious as the last time, but, somehow, Annie felt much more comfortable. She finally put it down to the fact that, this time, she was not the center of attention as the only girl in a roomful of boys. Now she was surrounded by girls – not nearly as many girls as boys, it was true, but enough of the girls were prettier than her to keep the boys' eyes off of her for the most part.

After about an hour of sitting at a table with Race, Mush, and Jack – and a couple of others whose names she couldn't quite recall, although she did remember that tall boy being referred to as Skittery, and she was pretty sure those twin girls had been introduced as 'Amanda and Miranda' – and a few dances with each one, Annie was startled to find that she was having more fun than she remembered having since, well, since forever. Elated, she smiled happily at Race, who answered with a grin of his own, then pulled her up for another dance.

Two hours later, Race was involved in a poker game, Jack had allowed himself to be persuaded that onstage with Medda was the place for him – "Surprise, surprise," one of the boys at their table had muttered to himself, "Jack's da center of attention again" – Blink was still off somewhere with Samantha, and Mush was sitting at the table, noting with some concern the pallor of Annie's skin and the slight trembling of her hand as she lifted her glass (of WATER, guys! No drunkenness!)

"Hey, you OK?" Mush asked, concerned.

Annie chuckled weakly, "You newsies always feel da need to ask me dat, don'tcha? But, in dis case, no, I'm not OK. I've never fainted before in my life, an' I don't plan to, but if I ever was gonna, I t'ink dis would be da time."

Mush nodded, "Yeah, it's pretty hot in 'ere," he stood up, "Let's get you outside."

Annie allowed herself to be led outside, where, after walking down the street for a little while, she seemed to feel better. "Thanks," she muttered, "It was hot, an' I guess I'm jus' not used to stayin' up so late. 'Sides, I've had a hard week." Inwardly, she cursed herself for showing weakness again. Why did these boys always catch her in the few moments when she let herself feel pain?

"Do you wanna go home?" Mush asked, "I could go in an' tell Jack an' dem for ya, den I could walk you."

A brief look of gratitude flashed over Annie's face before she answered sullenly, "You don't gotta. I knows da way home myself."

Mush looked slightly hurt, "I know ya do, but you're tired an' you don't feel well, an' dere ain't no way I'se lettin' you walk through New York alone at night. Now stay 'ere," he said firmly, running inside.

Annie didn't have to wait long before Mush returned, this time accompanied by a contrite-looking Jack. "I'se sorry, Annie," Jack said, "I shouldn't o' left you dere by yerself."

Annie began to get annoyed, as she always did when people tried to take care of her. "I'se _fine_, guys," she said, "I can take care o' myself." To prove it, she spun on her heel and began walking away.

Jack and Mush caught up to her easily, and they walked in silence all the way to Annie's apartment. Annie stalked up to the door and laid her hand on the handle, but paused before going in. She reflected on the fact that these boys had been nice to her, they had taken care of her only because they thought she needed it – not that she did, Annie reminded herself – and she had better be nice to them if she wanted to have fun like this again. She turned around and walked back down the steps. "Um, thanks," she said, not meeting their eyes, "I had fun."

She looked up quickly, then turned, almost frightened, to go inside. "Hey, Annie," she looked back to see Jack and Mush grinning at her, "We had fun, too," Jack said, "See ya later?" She smiled and nodded before opening the door. "Good night!" she called as she walked inside.

OOOOO

Sunday morning, Annie awoke with the standard "I hate Sundays" on her lips. Scowling, she got up, glancing tenderly at her father's still-slumbering form. She left him a note – the same note that she wrote every Sunday – telling him that she was going shopping and not to worry about her. Then she set off for the grocer's.

The little bell above the door dinged cheerfully as Annie walked in, and Annie glared at it. She glared, too, at the small boy laughing and playing outside, at the happy couple making their purchases, and at Katie's smile. "Well," Katie laughed, "it's nice to see you, too, Annie."

Annie's scowl faded as she said, "Sorry, Katie. It is nice to see you. I just –"

"Hate Sundays," Katie finished, "I know. Maybe if you did something besides mope around all day, you'd like them better."

"Oh, really?" Annie asked, picking up some carrots, "Like what?"

"Well, what did you do last night?"

Annie suddenly became utterly absorbed in the cabbage she was holding. "I stayed home with Da."

Katie rolled her eyes, "And the night before that?"

"Ha!" Annie said triumphantly, "I went out."

"Really?" Katie turned sharply on her friend, "Who with?"

"Some o' dose newsies."

"Newsies, huh?" Katie asked slyly, "Are dey nice? Handsome?"

"Yeah, dey're real nice. An' fun," Annie wrinkled her nose, "An' dey're not too hard on da eyes, eidder."

Katie laughed, "How did you meet them?"

"Ran into 'em a coupla times," Annie shrugged, "Been bummin' around wit 'em a bit ever since."

"Well," Katie said slowly, "Maybe you should find some o' them."

Annie looked at her in surprise. "Dey's sellin'! Dey gotta make money, too. Anyway, you know I don't like spendin' too much time wit anybody."

"I know," Katie said mirthlessly. Annie looked up sharply to meet Katie's sad gaze. "You used to," Katie continued, "Why don't you anymore?"

"People leave you," Annie said softly, "if you let 'em get to close."

"Annie, not everyone dies. Anyway, your mother didn't _leave_ you. She –"

"I wasn't talkin' 'bout me mudder," Annie replied angrily, picking up her groceries and sweeping out.

After she had brought the groceries home and made lunch for her father, she left him another note – "Da, lunch is on the table. I am out for a walk." – and left. She wandered the streets, trying not to think about her mother, or her father, or her conversation with Katie. That didn't leave much to think about, so she focused on the people. Families. Always families on Sundays. A little girl walked between her parents, swinging their hands. A woman held her baby as her husband admonished their son not to run too far ahead. And, there on the corner, a lone newsboy stood selling his papers. Annie looked closer. That newsie looked very familiar.

She walked toward him, and he turned to offer her a paper. Then recognition lit up his eyes. "Annie!" he said in surprise.

"Heya, Race, how's it rollin'?"

"Not so good," Race took off his cap and wiped his forehead, then gestured toward the stack of unsold papers on the ground. "I hate Sundays."

"I hear ya," Annie agreed wholeheartedly. "Can I help?"

Race stared at her for a moment, then shrugged, "If you wanna." At her nod, he handed her ten papers, and told her "Go stand over dere an' jus' yell out da headlines. If dey're bad, tweak 'em a little. An' look as pathetic as you can."

Annie nodded. Having spent her life as a poor street urchin – it mattered not that she actually lived in an apartment – she knew how to deliver the right mix of pathetic and cocky. And Race, having spent much of his life in reading people and living among street urchins, could tell that she knew, so he offered no more explanation, instead turning to an approaching family and beginning to shout headlines.

After an hour or so, only four papers remained. "Here," Race said, "You take two an' I'll take two, an' we'll sell 'em on our way to lunch. Unless you've already eaten lunch?" Annie shook her head. "Good, then I'm payin'." Annie began to protest, but Race cut her off, "You just helped me sell my papes in half da time I normally would. I gotta pay ya back somehow."

This reasoning seemed sound to Annie, so she accepted the two papers and followed Race, looking for someone to sell the papers to.

* * *

Again, my reviewers are sadly diminished. Much thanks to those who have reviewed. And many kisses. And perhaps one of the chocolate with peanut butter chip cookies that I have just made for my friend's bday tomorrow (9-27) which is my bday also. Hurray! But only if she can spare one.

**koodles: **it's so nice to know that I will always have at least one rview. The ABCs were awesome, by the way. And cross country is rough. I just ran a meet this weekend and improved my time from 3 weeks ago by 2 seconds. I am not a happy camper. Er, runner.

**Angry Princess:** Since you have a good excuse and missed only one chapter, I'll forgive you. And, obviously, I didn't update soon. (Sorry, sososo sorry), but I did update. And hopefully will again soon. That sentence made no sense.


	7. ch 7

And so began a semi-tradition. If Annie got off of work earlier than the newsies finished selling, she would find one of them to help them sell the rest of their papers before heading home. She did manage to convince them not to insist that she take the money, as she hadn't bought the papers, only sold them. Although she enjoyed the boys' company, Annie couldn't help feeling slightly guilty about leaving her father home alone so often.

"It ain't like 'e notices, anyway," Annie muttered bitterly, waving one of Jack's papers in the air. Jack walked up to her as she sold the paper, which was her last one, to a smiling old gentleman. Jack held out his empty hands, laughing as Annie groaned, "I sold out foist!" Jack taunted.

"Yea, well, you've had a lot more practice den me," Annie responded, falling into step next to him.

They bantered all the way inside the Lodging House, where they were greeted by Mush and some girl who Annie vaguely recognized. Annie tried not to stare as Mush and Jack exchanged greetings, but, of course, the girl caught one of Annie's furtive glances and smiled. "Hi, I'm Samantha. Blink's goil," she added at the blank look on Annie's face.

Suddenly, realization dawned on Annie, "Oh, right, I met you at Irvin' Hall dat time."

"That's right," Samantha replied with another smile, before turning to face Jack, as he called a "Hey!" to her.

Annie now felt free to observe, as the girl appeared to be absorbed in laughing with Jack. Samantha was no hoity-toity, her sun-tanned skin and callused hands proved that; her eyes looked honest and eager to approve, her lips ready to smile ("she's just right for Blink, then," Annie thought with a smirk); she was pretty enough, and might have even been beautiful if not for the snarled hair, roughened skin, and hardened, slightly desperate look that seemed to come to all girls on the street.

Annie yelped as she was suddenly grabbed from behind, and a voice growled in her ear, "What're you lookin' at my goil for, huh?"

Annie whirled around to face Blink, who burst into laughter, as did everyone else, at the look on her face. Annie breathed in deeply to calm down, as her heart had jumped at Blink's mock-attack, then said, "Hey to you, too, you bummer."

"Blink, I had no idea you were so protective," Samantha drawled in a voice that seemed to only occasionally slip into the standard "New Yawk" accent.

"Well, I gotta be, wit somet'in' dis good to protect," Blink replied, slipping an arm around her.

Race leaned over to Annie and muttered in a falsely cheerful voice, "Aw, ain't dat sweet. Dey're jus' a regular pair o' loveboids."

Annie tried without success to muffle her giggles, and Blink and Samantha glanced over at her before shifting their gazes to glare at Race. "What?" he exclaimed innocently, "Annie laughed. I didn't!"

"Yeah, but you was behind it somehow," Blink said.

"Y'know what?" Samantha announced, "I think you're jealous."

"Of what," Race shot back, "Your disgusting lovey-dovey comments?" he shook his head with an emphatic, "No, thank you." Looking around, Annie decided from the casual grins on everyone's faces that this must be a fairly common topic of conversation.

"So," Jack said loudly.

"So what?" Mush interrupted.

Jack rolled his eyes, "So, whaddaya wanna do?" Everyone shrugged. "Well, we can't jus' sit 'round here all night."

"Why not?" Mush asked.

"'Cause dere's a buncha littl'uns upstairs who'd wanna come down 'ere an' play," Race replied, "an' I dunno 'bout you, but I can only handle 'em in small doses."

"Where're all da older newsies?" Annie asked.

"Out an' about," Blink grinned, his arm still around Samantha's shoulders.

Samantha sighed, "What they're not gonna tell you, jus' because they like bein' annoying, is that the newsies usually don't come back right after they finish selling papes 'less they've got nothing better to do."

"Unless it's a poker night," Race added.

"Or a bad sellin' day," said Jack.

"Right," Samantha agreed, "They're usually all in by 10:00, though, an' then they stay up for another hour at least. Morons," she rolled her eyes, "You'd think they'd realize that staying up late makes you tired the next morning." Most of this tirade seemed to be directed at Blink, and Annie watched in amusement as he determinedly stared at Race in an attempt to avoid Samantha's gaze. Eventually, she gave up trying to catch his eye and said, turning to Annie, "It took me a while to figure that out, 'specially since no one around here is very helpful." This time her glare seemed universal, and the boys all grinned.

"C'mon, Samantha, we'se always willin' to help you out," Mush protested, as Samantha raised her eyebrows.

"Humph. Seems like you had a lot of fun tormentin' me when I first showed up with Blink."

Eventually the group decided that they would just walk around until something better presented itself, and they set off. Annie spent much of the beginning of the evening trying not to resent Samantha's intrusion into what she felt was a perfect group of five, before realizing that Samantha probably had the same perspective. And, after all, Samantha had known them longer, so she had even more right to dislike Annie than Annie did to dislike her. Though a part of Annie's brain whispered that, as the more established within the group, Samantha could afford to be nice, Annie decided to judge Samantha based on her own merits. After only an hour, Annie admitted that Samantha's merits were many, decided that she added much to the group, and entered into the teasing and conversation with her usual fervor.

When Annie got home that night, rather later than usual, she found her father sitting at the table, staring straight ahead, and, to her amazement, completely sober. "Where have you been?" he asked quietly, not looking at her, as soon as she walked in the door.

"Da, are you alright?" Annie asked, "Lemme turn on a light." She began bustling around the tiny room, keeping a running commentary of what she was doing, "Have you even eaten yet? Of course not. I'll jus' fix you up somet'in' real quick. How 'bout some soup? I'll get dat on da stove, so's you can eat it an' go to bed."

"Where have you been?" her father interrupted.

Annie put down the pot that she had just picked up and turned to look at him, "I was out wit' some friends."

"I was so worried about you," he continued in that same shaky voice, as though he had been through hell and back waiting for her return.

"I'm sorry, da," Annie said, immediately contrite, "I guess I haven't been around as much as I oughta."

He finally looked over at her, and, as his eyes met hers, she caught her breath. Had he always looked so small, so helpless? She must not have been caring for him as she should. Before his next sentence was finished, Annie resolved to be home more often, so that she could take care of her father as she had promised her mother that she would.

"I need you, Annabelle," his eyes filled with tears and his hand trembled as he laid it on hers. "What would I do without you?"

Annie looked at him for a moment, then led him over to his bed. "Go to sleep, da," she crooned softly.

She walked across the room to turn out the light, and her father called, "I love you, Annabelle."

Annie stood still for a moment after blowing out the candle on the table, then said, "I love you, too, da," into the darkness.

OOOOO

For a week Annie headed straight home after work, avoiding all of her normal paths so that her friends wouldn't try to persuade her to come out with them. Whenever she wanted to see them again, to smile over one of Mush's naivetes, to laugh at Race's sarcastic comments, hear Jack talk about Santa Fe, try to understand Blink's enthusiasm for life, or even share a smile with Samantha over the antics of the boys, Annie forced herself to remember her father and the fact that he needed her, that she had promised her mother to help him.

However, once again, the newsies foiled her plans. About a week after her decision, late enough in the evening that her father had a chance to really get into the bottle, Annie's routine of ignoring him by cleaning was interrupted by a knock on the door. Upon opening it, Annie was surprised to see Jack standing there. Her first instinct was to slam the door shut and block him out – that was simpler, that was safer than letting him in. But he was a little too quick, shoving his foot in the door before Annie had quite gotten it closed.

Jack stepped inside and stared at Annie for a moment, before asking, "What's goin' on, Annie? Why haven't you been comin' 'round lately?"

"I been busy," Annie shrugged, going back to cleaning dishes to avoid meeting his eyes.

"C'mon, Annie, we both know dat's not true," Jack said gently, "you always had time for us before."

Annie slammed down a dish in response. Jack opened his mouth to say something else, but, hearing a noise from the other room, asked, "Who is dat?"

Annie looked up, panicked, then dropped the dishes and grabbed Jack's hand, "Let's go outside, Jack. We can talk 'bout it outside."

Jack looked as though he were considering it, but their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Annie's father. One glance revealed that they were related, as the resemblance between the two was so strong, and he immediately dropped Annie's hand, saying, "I'm sorry, sir, I was jus' talkin' to Annie here..." he trailed off as he realized that the man wasn't acknowledging him. "Um, sir?"

"He won't answer," Annie said dully. "He's drunk. Thinks he's somewhere else."

As if to prove her right, her father spoke up for the first time. "Caroline. Where are you, Caroline? I need you." To Jack's surprise, his eyes passed over Jack and Annie to settle on the doorway. "Oh, there you are." He paused, then continued as though answering someone, "I haven't seen her all day. I think she's out playing with that little girl next door. Katie, you know, the Irish one." He nodded, "Yes, she and Annie have become great friends." He continued in this vein, directing his comments to the unseen person in the doorway, occasionally pausing in response, and even, one very strange time, reaching out as though touching her.

Jack was startled from his fascinated horror by the sound of a door slamming, and he looked up to see that Annie had just run out. He quickly followed her, fully expecting to have to chase her down, so he was surprised to stumble over her in the doorway to the apartment building.

He sat down next to her and, after she repulsed the protective arm he instinctively put around her, said, "Is – is dat your dad?"

"Yeah."

Jack nodded for a moment before asking, hesitantly, "Is he – does he – I mean,"

"He's like dat a lot, yeah," Annie's voice was dull and hard, unlike her normal sarcastic tones. Jack tried to get his thoughts together, tried to figure out what to say to her, but before he could think of anything, Annie said, "Jus' ask me whatever you wanna know, alright? Don't worry none 'bout protectin' me or nothin', 'cause I don't need it. I'm fine." Her voice was harsh, but at least there was some emotion in it.

"Who's Caroline?" Jack continued after a long silence.

"Me mudder," the hardness was back in her voice, "She died four years ago. I was twelve."

Jack looked at her in surprise, "Have you been takin' care o' him ever since? Since you was twelve?" he asked incredulously. "God, dat musta been awful."

Annie shrugged, and, after another long silence, said, "Anythin' else you wanna know? 'Cause I gotta get back up dere an' make sure 'e's OK."

Jack looked at her, wondering how to help her, how to show her that he and the other boys cared about her. He wanted to tell her that they had been worried about her all week, that it was only respect for her pride that had kept them from coming already. He wanted to let her know that she could tell him anything, that she could break down, that he wouldn't judge her.

All that Annie could think was "Don't cry, don't cry, don't let him see your weakness. You've gotta hold it in, don't cry, jus' be strong. Get 'im outta here an' you can go back upstairs, an' don't cry, an' you can take care o' da jus' like you promised." And, eventually, just, "Don't cry don't cry don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry."

Jack started to say he knew not what of friendship and the pain of independence, but Annie stood up, "I gotta get back, Jack. I'll see you around." But they way she said it let him know that she wasn't planning on it, and Jack jumped up to grab her hand, but she was already inside. Jack stared after her for a moment, then, suddenly cold, he shoved his hands in his coat pocket and started the lonely walk back to the Lodging House.

* * *

OK, I'm getting desperate for reviews, y'all. So, I'm reduced to begging. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease...

**koodles:** Yay, a review! What a wonderful bday present! So, now that I'm 17, I can do all kinds of things legally that I had to do illegally when I was 16. Like drive past 11:00, get into R-rated movies, buy porn (OK, so I probably won't USE that last one, but,still, I COULD). Celebration!

I love lame jokes, too. That part with Mush was like a little scene from my life, where everybody just kind of shrugs and says, "Rachel, you're so weird."

**AngryPrincess:** Here's your update.


	8. ch 8

Wow, it has been an exceptionally long time since my last update. In fact, it's apparently been long enough for to change it's document manager. Hmm. Anyway, I am so sorry! School is...adfksejao. Seriously, that's the only way to describe it. I should be doing hwrk right now, but, well, I'm not. So y'all better be grateful for this update and review, review, REVIEW!!

* * *

The next day, Annie followed her normal ritual: wake up, get da ready for the day, go to work, come home, care for Da… This time, though, she allowed herself to wonder if it was worth it. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life this way. "Yes," she said staunchly to the kitchen sink, "I promised mother." The rest of her explanation was cut off by a knock at the door.

Annie wiped her sudsy hands on a towel, then opened the door to see Race fidgeting before her. "Obviously you haven't talked to Jack," she said drily.

"What?"

"Nothing. Come in," Annie began to open the door wider, then, remembering the scene of last night, hastily shut it so that only her head was visible. "Actually, I'll come out. Jus' hold on for a minute." She frantically scurried about to grab her things, checked on her father, who was drunk enough that she didn't have to worry about him doing anything – _He'll just sit here talking to Ma,_ she thought bitterly – then stepped outside.

The two stared at each other for a moment, before Annie broke the silence. "So," she stated.

"So what?" Race replied automatically, and the two grinned at each other before Annie sharply reminded herself that she was supposed to be isolating herself for her father, not grinning idiotically with Race.

"You came. Not me," Annie said rudely.

Race sobered immediately. "Exactly." Seeing her confused look, he hurried to clarify. "I mean, you haven't come. In a while. An', well, we've all been worried 'bout you."

"That's what Jack said," Annie sighed.

Race looked up quickly. "Jack?"

"He came yesterday," Annie started walking, "We didn't talk for very long." She turned to Race, who was still standing at her apartment door, "Are you comin'?"

He hurried to catch up. "Where're we goin'?" Annie shrugged. "OK…" he trailed off. They walked in silence down the stairs and into the streets. After a few minutes, Race glanced cautiously at Annie, then stopped abruptly, grabbing her arm. "Alright, Annie, what is it? No, really," he objected to her protests, "what's wrong? Why haven't you come to see us, huh?"

Now would be the perfect time to hurt him, to send him and his friends – her friends – away forever. _But do I really want to?_ Her head was spinning, the only thing that drew her back to the moment was his eyes focused on her own. "Who says I wanna see you?" she spat without thinking. "You're not all you think you are, y'know? I jus' got tired of it all."

Race glared at her for a moment before replying. "You're gonna need a better story dan dat, kid. I believe dat you don't wanna see us, dat's obvious, but you ain't sick of us yet." He started walking again, and she followed. "Jus' start talkin' whenever you wanna tell me da truth."

After about ten minutes, Annie began counting the seconds in her head. After exactly 22 minutes and 43 seconds, she snapped. "Alright," she growled, "I ain't sick o' you'se guys. I'se jus'…I can't, alright?" she said desperately.

"Why not?" Race asked calmly.

"Because I can't!" She didn't even have to look at him to know that wouldn't be enough. "'Cause o' my Da," she whispered. She sank down onto the bench next to her, then looked up to realize with some surprise that they were in Central Park – deep in Central Park. Race chuckled at the startled look that crossed her face, then nodded at her to continue. "See, up until I was twelve, I had it pretty good, y'know?" Annie began hesitantly, but soon words were spilling out of her, a story that she had retold to herself time and time again, but never shared. "Ma and Da were so in love – wit' each other and wit' me – and everyt'ing was just…perfect. Da worked in an office, an' Ma was a seamstress. A good one, too. Taught me everyt'in' I know. We used to 'ave so much fun when Da came 'ome from work, an' on Sundays – that was our favorite day.

"Den, da winter after I turned twelve, Ma got real sick. It didn't take too long after dat. Da an' I never really had a chance to realize it before she was gone. An' Da – 'e loved 'er so much. Still does, really. Anyway, 'e took some time offa work, said 'e'd go back in two weeks. But two weeks turned into three, then four, an' I realized dat 'e wasn't plannin' on goin' back. I tried to talk 'im into it, but 'e had gotten into da bottle by den."

She had been staring at her hands through the whole story, but now she looked up at Race, her eyes fierce. "'E's a good man, really. 'E jus' doesn't understand. I couldn't tell 'im – I didn't have the heart – how hard it is for me. Out here," the wave of her hand encompassed the whole of the city, "but mostly in dere. You know we still live in the same apartment dat she did? Dad won't move, even dough we can't really afford da rent. An' 'e drinks like a fish, jus' drinks an' drinks until 'e can convince 'imself dat she's dere, dat da past few years were jus' a terrible nightmare."

The tears that had been threatening to spill over despite her clenched fists and determination suddenly exploded out, and, without either quite understanding how, Annie's head was buried in Racetrack's chest, his arms circling her as he soothed her with senseless words and awkward motions.

Finally, Annie sat up again, wiping her eyes. "I'se sorry," she sniffled, "I don't usually…" she gestured helplessly.

"I know," Race reassured her, pausing for a moment before saying, "So, what are we gonna do about dis?"

"What?" Annie asked, startled. Then she started to laugh – a bit hysterically, it was true, but a laugh nonetheless. "I'se sorry, it's jus' dat I expected you to be all sympathetic an' tell me 'it's OK to cry,' an' 'you deserve better.' Jack would've—anyway, I was bracin' myself for dat; you bein' all practical caught me by surprise."

"Would you rather I was 'all sympathetic,'" Race asked with mock-seriousness, but he didn't even finish the sentence before Annie was shaking her head energetically. "Well, den, what are we gonna do about dis?"

"What do you mean? About what?"

Race rolled his eyes. "About da crime rate in New York," he replied sarcastically. "About you an' your pop, o' course."

"Oh. Um, nothing," Annie began toying nervously with the hem of her shirt. "I've tried everyt'ing to make him stop drinkin' an' realize dat she's not comin' back. Nothin' works."

"OK," Race said slowly, "but what about you?"

"What about me?" Annie asked defensively, obviously trying to stop his questioning with rudeness.

"You can't keep doin' dis to yourself, Annie. I don't know what it is dat's makin' you give up everyt'ing for 'im, but you can't. You gotta have friends, an' fun, an' –"

"He's my Da!" Annie interrupted ferociously, "Dat's what's makin' me stay wit' 'im, an' as for givin' evert'ing up; he is everyt'ing."

Race shook his head helplessly, "Annie, it's not worth it. You said it yourself, 'e doesn't even know where or when 'e is most o' da time."

Annie looked at him angrily, "What do you know? He's my fadder, an' I love 'im, an' you have no right to judge my family."

"Dat ain't a family," Race answered. "A family is parents takin' care of children, it's everyone growin' an' helpin' each other." He leaned towards her, putting a hand on her arm and staring earnestly at her, "You're jus' a kid. I know dat dere's really no such t'ing as kids on da streets, but we all deserve to be taken care of a little. Or at least to not hafta take care of anyone else. It's OK to want to stay wit' your fadder an' take care of 'im, but you gotta let us take care o' you a little bit, too."

The two stared intently at each other before Annie dropped her eyes. "What do you care? It don't matter, I don't matter. Dere's a hundred other kids jus' like me, givin' up everyt'ing every day. Go take care of one o' dem."

Race grinned, "Well, y'see, I would, but I've gotten kinda attached to dis one: Annie."

He reached out to ruffle her hair, but she smacked his hand away, glaring at him. "Why Annie? Annie's just a poor urchin who lives on the streets and probably will die on the streets."

"But you're not just Annie. You're Annabelle," Race replied, then smacked himself in the head. "I can't believe I just said dat!" he exclaimed.

Annie refused to give in to Race's attempts to lighten the mood. "I ain't Annabelle no more! I stopped bein' Annabelle da day my mudder died, da day I had to treat Da like a child!"

Turning suddenly serious, Race gazed at her, all the pain that she was afraid to show evident on his face. He didn't reach out to her, didn't utter any comforting platitudes – he knew better than that. Instead, he pretended not to notice her weakness; the only sign that he even knew she was suffering was the gentleness in his voice as he suggested, "Well, we'll hafta get you a new name, won't we?"

"Like what?" Annie returned angrily.

"Like…" Race pretended to think hard, then grinned gleefully, "Princess!" Annie snorted in disbelief. "OK, dat could be da least princess-y t'ing I've heard all day. Um…Rose. No, no, wait: Lily! Dat's better, but…"

Annie took advantage of Race's idiocies to wipe her eyes and pull herself together again. It didn't take long; hiding all semblance of emotion was something she had to practice often. She was calm soon enough to catch "Snowflake" in the midst of Race's list of names.

"Snowflake?" she asked incredulously. "You have to be kiddin'. Where did dat come from?" She turned to address the rest of the park, "Where could dat possibly have come from?" Then, turning back to Race, she added scathingly, "It hasn't snowed once since I knew you. You are terrible at picking nicknames."

"I'se saved the best for last," he said, smirking as she braced herself for another sickly sweet pseudonym (A/N: how's that for an alliteration?). "Bell."

She wrinkled her nose. "Bell?"

Race sighed, "Look, don't ever tell anyone I'm bein' dis–" he waved his hand helplessly.

"Sentimental?" Annie suggested with a giggle.

"Nice," Race glared at her. "Anyway, I was sayin' Bell because, well, you don't wanna be Annabelle no more, but, well, dat's who you are." Annie struggled not to smile at his obvious discomfort. "So, um, an' you don't wanna be Annie, 'cause Annie's 'jus' some urchin,' right?" He looked to her for confirmation, so she quickly sobered up and nodded. "Well, Bell's all dat's left," he finished triumphantly.

"Bell," Annie said contemplatively. "Yeah, I guess dat could work. Only, I dunno, I'se kinda used to 'Annie' by now. An' 'Bell', it don't really strike fear into da hearts of anyone who meets me, does it?"

"What, an' 'Annie' does?"

"More dan 'Bell'! Bell sounds like some dance-hall mistress or a scared little girl. I don't know which is worse."

Race feigned astonishment, "You're not eidder of dose t'ings?"

Annie gasped, then glared at him. "Oooh, I am gonna beat you into next week for dat," she threatened. He leapt up and dashed off, with Annie in hot pursuit.

She finally caught him at a little pond somewhere in the park. "Took you long enough," Race panted, "guess I'se a little too fast for you."

"You cheated," she said, indignant, "I could barely breathe, I was laughin' so hard at dose stupid cries for help."

"Cries for help! Where?" Race looked around frantically, then grinned down at her. "Oh, you mean dese cries for help:" he pitched his voice higher and began running in circles, flailing his arms about and screaming, "Help! Murder! Police! Fire!" He kept up a steady stream until Annie finally tackled him, then rolled over so that they lay side by side.

"You know I'm still gonna call you Bell, right?" Race addressed the sky.

"Yeah," Annie sighed, staring up at it, too. "Jus' as long as it's only where no one can hear. I don't wanna be mistaken for some dance hall mistress."

Race sat up and glared at her. "Bell is a nice name," he stated.

Annie didn't say anything for a moment, then she sat up, facing him. "I know. And thanks. For…well, thanks."

Race nodded, and they both sat there looking decidedly uncomfortable before Annie leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "It jus' – it seemed like sometin' Bell would do," was her hurried response to his startled look. "I've gotta go."

"Wait," Race called as she began to leave. She turned halfway around. "You really better start comin' 'round again," he threatened, "or I'll be back wit' new names, an' I'll tell people 'bout 'em, too."

Annie stuck her tongue out at him and walked away. Race sat on the grass and stared after her for a long time before getting up, dusting off his pants, and heading home.


	9. ch 9

The next evening found Annie pacing nervously in her apartment after work. Back and forth, back and forth she strode as she talked out loud to the kitchen appliances. "Should I go? I should go, right? I mean, I wanna go, they want me to go…it makes sense. Only, what if dey don't want me to go? What if dey's jus' bein' nice?" Even she couldn't convince herself of that; she rolled her eyes at the idiocy of anyone going through all that trouble to get someone they didn't like to spend time with them. Then her breath caught in her throat: "What if they did?"

Her pacing was interrupted by the entry of her father from the bedroom. He had lost his job – again – and now spent most of the day in a drunken stupor, dreaming about his wife and the way things used to be. Because of this, Annie was surprised to see that he was sober. _Well, mostly, anyway_, she thought bitterly, staring at the half-empty bottle in his hand.

He peered at her through watery red eyes. "Annabelle, I'm sorry," he said finally. "No, wait," he cut her off as she opened her mouth to reply, "I've been watching you the last month or so, and something's different. Something's changed. You're happier now than you ever were before, and I don't know why." He shook his head in amazement, "What kind of father am I that I don't know what was making my daughter unhappy, or what's making her happy now?"

Annie's eyes dropped to the bottle, then back up to his face. He caught her look and smiled, "Is this what you've been so worried about?" He waved the bottle around, "Annabelle, I don't drink so much. Just – enough, y'know? It's hard being a working man and father. Especially now that you're mother's…Well, anyway, you don't have to worry about me abusing you or anything. I'll never get that drunk."

Annie bit her lip, her eyes shining with unshed tears that she held back for him – everything was for him. "I know, Da," she said softly. "An' yer a great fadder."

He shook his head and smiled sadly at her. "I was a great father. Before your mother…before Caroline," his lip trembled and he lifted the bottle to his mouth with a shaking hand. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he whispered, "I'm sorry," before turning around and going back into the back room.

Annie stared after him for a moment, the hurt evident on her features. For a moment, she looked as though she were about to cry, then the sadness gave way to anger. With quick, violent motions, she grabbed her shoes and yanked them on, snatched her coat from the coat rack and threw it around her shoulders, and jerked the door open. She glared over her shoulder, and her face softened. "I love you, Da," she whispered before leaving.

The walk to the Lodging House seemed faster than ever before. Annie strode forward confidently in a sort of fog, thinking about absolutely nothing except for the feeling of safety that increased as she neared her friends. Somehow these boys had found her and cared for her, had become her source of strength. Annie paused to smile at the sign over the door of the Lodging House before heading inside.

A couple of boys glanced up as the door swung open, but most of them looked back down as soon as they recognized Annie – actually, most of them simply recognized "that goil who bums around wit' Jack an' Race an' all." Jack and Mush, however, bounded forward to greet her.

"Annie!" Mush yelped, "You're back! I didn't think you was ever gonna come back. I'se glad ya did, though."

Annie smiled at him. Race, who was watching her from the chair where he was smoking a cigar and shuffling his cards, noted that it was a real smile, with no pain or guilt. He continued to observe Jack's and Mush's excited greetings before finally getting up himself. Annie noticed his approach and turned to look at him. When she realized who it was, a huge smile lit up her face for a moment, then she immediately directed it at the floor. Race paused in confusion for a moment, but by the time he reached them, she had schooled her face into a less buoyant grin.

"Hey, Annie!" he said, then mouthed "Bell" over the other boys' shoulders. He chuckled at her glare, then at the confused looks on Jack's and Mush's faces as they heard his seemingly unwarranted laugh.

"So, what's goin' on tonight?" Annie asked. "I remember you'se guys tellin' me dat da older newsies don't usually come in till later, but it seems like everyone's here before dinner tonight."

"Not Blink," Jack pointed out.

"Yeah, he's never been very good at poker," Mush said, "I think this date wit Samantha is jus' an excuse for 'im not to play."

"Oh, because you're 'Mr. Cards' 'imself, huh?" Jack teased.

"It's a poker night," Race explained, "we'se jus' waitin' for a couple more people to get 'ere, den we'se startin'."

Annie nodded and said, "Well, since it looks like it's all guys an' I'm not much on poker anyway, I'll come back later."

"No, stay," Jack protesed, "You can jus' watch if you want."

Raising a sarcastic eyebrow, Annie said, "Oooh, dat sounds like fun."

"Naw, dere's someone out every round, an' people'll be talkin' an' stuff. You won't get bored." Mush grinned hopefully at her.

Race, who had been staring incredulously at her the whole time, said, "You dunno how to play poker? How is dat possible? Everyone who lives on da streets has to learn. It's self-defense!"

"I know how to _play_," Annie said, "I'se jus' not very good at it. I fold when I should call an' stay in when I got nuttin'. An' I ain't had a lot o' practice. It's not like I've spent a lot o' time wit' odder kids."

Race shook his head, "Dat's no excuse. You're stayin'. No arguments. Ya gotta learn how to play sometime, an' it's safest among friends."

"Safest?" Annie laughed, but Race held up a warning finger.

"You never know," he said in mock-seriousness, "when a poker game could mean life or death."

Rolling her eyes, Annie allowed herself to be led to the game.

OOOOO

Cries of "Annabelle!" issued from the other room.

"Yes, Da?" Annie called back.

"Come here, please."

Perplexed, Annie drew her sudsy hands out of the water, wiped them off on a nearby towel, and headed for the back room.

"Yes, Da?" she said again, on reaching it.

Her father was sprawled out on his bed, clutching something in his hand. "Annabelle, I just want you to know…I mean, if anything – I love you, you know that, right?"

"Da, I…" Annie trailed off, trying to get a better look at what was in his hand.

"No, really," he seemed very anxious to convey this to her, "I love you more than…more than anything." He began waving his hands around to emphasize his point, and Annie caught a glimpse of the photograph in his hand, enough to ensure that it was her mother, although she could have guessed that easily.

"Not more'n anything," she muttered.

"What's that?"

With some effort, Annie summoned up a bright smile, "I know, Da, an' I love you, too. Only I gotta get back to da dishes."

Her father nodded and waved her off, and she headed back to the kitchen with a lot on her mind. After she finished the dishes, she headed off to the Lodging House, as she so often did now. One or two of her friends would often be lurking about, and, if not, she knew their favorite haunts well enough by now to be able to dig one up. Tonight, however, it was not necessary, as she found Jack lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Whatcha doin'?" she asked brightly as she entered the bunkroom.

Jack allowed himself a grin before answering, "Thinkin'."

Annie nodded and climbed onto the top bunk next to his, laying down with a sigh of contentment.

After a few minutes, Jack began to speak – rather nervously, Annie noticed. "Annie, we've known each udder a while, an' we'se pretty good friends, huh?" He sat up and looked at her to gauge her reaction. Annie nodded. "Well, um, y'see, it's like dis: I like ya, Annie. I like ya a lot. An' as more'n jus' friends."

Annie sat up, too, in a panic. "Jack, you don't…you don't mean dat!"

"I do, Annie, or I wouldn't be sayin' it. So I wanted to ask if you'd be my goil."

Annie stared at him in horror for a moment, then turned away. "Jack, I–" she trailed off helplessly.

"Wait. Before you say anything, jus' lemme tell you: dat first time I saw you – you remember, you was cryin' on da porch," Annie tensed visibly at those words, but Jack didn't notice, "I thought dat I'd like to know you better. You was so pretty an' helpless an' I jus' wanted to take care o' you. An' I have, a bit, ever since. An' –"

"Jack, I'se not really da pretty an' helpless type," Annie was trying to be gentle. "I don't wanna be 'taken care of.'"

"Then what do you want?"

"I dunno. Something else, I guess."

Jack began fidgeting with his bandanna. "Look, Annie, I wouldn't o' asked ya if I didn't think dat you – dat I had a shot, y'know?"

"But what would make you think you had a shot wit me?" Annie asked incredulously. Then, realizing how that had sounded, she corrected herself, "I mean, not dat you shouldn't. But why wit me in particular?"

Jack shrugged. "I dunno. You always seemed alright wit showin' me when you're sad an' upset. You always let me comfort you, an' I know dat's a hard thing for you. Well, for anyone on da streets."

"But Jack, I don't come to you," she said bluntly, "you jus' always catch me."

"You told me about your Pop," he shot back.

"You came bargin' into my house an' saw 'im! What was I s'posed to do?" Annie was beginning to get angry, her usual response when people forced her to show emotions. Neither was Jack very calm himself, though his was the anger of embarrassment and disappointed hopes.

"Fine," Jack hissed, "you don't wanna see me, don't bother comin' back." He immediately regretted his words, but they couldn't be unsaid. "Annie, wait. Annie, I'se sorry." But Annie was already walking out of the room.

At the door she turned around. "I've got odder friends here too, you know. Is it OK if I come see dem? Only every now an' den when your majesty permits, o'course." With one final, angry glare, she slammed the door on his protests and apologies.

* * *

Y'all, I'm so sorry that it keeps taking me so long to update. I'm just...OK, there's no excuse. But I do have news! Guess where I just got back ffrom? New York!!! Only I didn't see a single newsie. I wonder how that happened...

Let me tell you what I did see, though: WICKED!!! And it was amazing. Beyond amazing. Idina Menzel is just...indescribable. Well, enough gushing. On to my faithful reviewers:

**koodles:** what would I do without your oh-so-nice reviews? Thank you sososo much!

**Sarah: **Well, here's my effort to continue. Hope you liked it. I actually have the next part planned out (Oooh! Ahhh!) so the next update should be soon. Actually, you know what? Just forget I said that. No promises on non-procrastination.

**Autumn-Park:** O'course I won't forget you. I'll be back on the 13th, m'love. Why are there so many apostrophes in this shout-out?


	10. ch 10

Look who's finally back and updating! (The correct answer is: ME!) I hope that I haven't lost all of my reviewers, although I'm well aware that I deserve it, after that ridiculously long "break" from Why I needed one I'll never know. With exams going on right now, it's a lot easier for me to update, so hopefully this'll be finished soon (yes, I'm a procrastinator in school as well as fanfic). My writing style has changed a bit since my forever-ago postings, hopefully for the better, so my apologies for any awkward shifts. Enjoy!

* * *

Annie crashed down the stairs, stormed past a startled bunch of newsies playing marbles in the front room, and hurled herself out the front door, flinging it shut with a loud bang. "I hope Jack heard that," she thought fiercely as she stepped into the street on her way home. Halfway there, though, she stopped. He father seemed to be headed for a particularly bad night, and did she really want to be with him, facing his tears and madness in addition to her own humiliation and anger? Annie felt a flash of guilt at this thought; she had always been willing to help Da before she met the newsies. Through sheer force of habit, she had almost convinced herself to go home to her only family, when she suddenly turned and started walking in the other direction. 

"Dat ain't a family," she muttered under her breath. Then, picking up her pace with a new sense of purpose, "I gotta find Race." She would check all of his known haunts, ask every newsie in New York if she had to; it wasn't like she had anywhere else to go tonight.

OOOOO

Forty-five minutes later, her head cleared a bit from all the walking that she had done, Annie began to reflect a bit on her sudden need to see Race. "Why?" she asked herself over and over; it wasn't as though he could do anything about Jack's idiotic behavior. She waited for another flash of anger, but, unfortunately, the long walk had cooled that, too. She couldn't really be angry at Jack anymore – actually, she was kind of flattered that he could like her that much. Then she remembered his accusations of her encouragement and his desire to turn her into a helpless little thing to take care of. "Maybe not that flattered," she admitted drily. Still, her anger – most of it – had turned into embarrassment, and regret for hurting him and, potentially, losing a friend. Her first friend in a long time.

And why was she looking for Race? "What's 'e gonna do about it?" she asked aloud, "tell Jack, 'Annie don't like you'? I don't t'ink so. Race ain't some little goil, carrying messages back an' forth. I oughta jus' go home." But the thought of going back without anyone to talk to made her feel empty. "I never had nobody before," she thought slowly, "so I don't need nobody now…right?"

Suddenly filled with panic, Annie started for home, practically running. No way was she going to suddenly start needing people. People left you if you held on too tight. They died, or walked out, or followed some beloved phantom from room to room, never seeing the warm, hopeful, _real_ person aching to be recognized. And still you couldn't let them go. Annie winced as her reflections got too personal. "It's not jus' me," she sullenly told the empty street, "I've seen it all over da streets." She sighed, "Ain't we all?" Another wave of loneliness swept over her, nauseating and empty. "I can't go back," she said softly, firmly. "But I can't go anywhere else, eidder." Overcome by confusion and conflicting emotions, Annie wandered into a nearby ally, where she – very prudently – sat down, put her head on her knees, and cried.

One can only cry for so long before thoughts intrude on the catharsis, and Annie's relieving cry was soon interrupted by bothersome practicality. "This ain't safe," "I can't sit here forever," and "Where'm I gonna sleep tonight?" kept recurring in her mind. The final straw, however, was when the most common thought, "Damn, I'm _hungry_," was accompanied by a loud rumble from her empty stomach. Annie stood up, wiped her cheeks – leaving terribly attractive smudges in its grubby coating of dirt – and looked around.

With her nerves relieved by a good cry, Annie was able to reconsider the events of the night. It was hard to relive so many changes in emotion occurring over such a short time, but she did it. And, after much thought, she decided that it would be alright to find Race. "After all," she reflected, "it's OK to need someone jus' a little bit. It's when you start getting like – like Da that things turn all wrong." And, taking a deep breath, she set off to find Race. "I'se gonna see da whole city like dis," she thought wryly as she turned around yet again.

Unfortunately, Race didn't seem to want to be found. And it was getting late. And, as much as Annie wanted to throw responsibility aside, she had work tomorrow. Annie turned around with an angry sigh and plowed right into – someone. As he mumbled a quick apology, Annie tried frantically to think of his name, then gave up. "Hey, you're a newsie, right?"

"Yeah," the boy replied warily, glaring at the girl who first plowed him over, then eagerly inquired after his profession.

"Sorry bout dat," Annie waved her hand at him. "Listen, d'you know where Racetrack is tanight?"

The boy squinted at the sky, thinking, then gruffly answered, "I t'ink 'e said somethin' bout a poker game on 45th and 8th."

"Poker. Right." Annie thought for a moment, then looked up. "Thanks," she said brightly, before heading off to the poker game, where she would hopefully find Race.

OOOOO

Despite the fact that she had sat through several games of poker with the newsies, Annie never had really gotten the hang of it. The boys planned strategically, created facades like it was a war; Annie just picked up cards and put them down with high hopes and desperation for money. Besides, those card games had all been friendly ones, with an easy camaraderie between the newsies and their friends. So it was with much trepidation that Annie walked into the dim-lit, smoke-filled room and gazed around at the tight clusters of men – and, she noted with surprise, a few women – intent on their cards.

Nervously, Annie stared around, lurking as close to the wall as she could to avoid notice, waving away all offers of drinks from the waitresses, and ignoring appraising leers from drunk men, until she spotted Race. He looked pretty involved in the game, though, and there was no way Annie was interrupting him with all those big men around. She found herself smiling at the way they dwarfed him, and how unconscious he appeared of his scrawny stature. Finally, Race got up, and, though she couldn't understand what he was saying, she watched him smirk and shake hands with everyone at the table, then turn to go.

As he walked out of the room, Annie moved toward him, and he looked startled as he noticed her. "Annie, what da hell are you doin' 'ere?" he asked. Then, as she started to answer, he said, "Hold up, let's go outside. I jus' relieved dose fellas of a little cash, an' I don't wanna be around when dey have time to think about it."

He led her outside, waving at one of the waitresses and shouting, "G'bye John. Take care!" across the room, then turned to her. "So what's up?"

Annie looked at him for a second, then remembered why she had come to find him. She suddenly realized that telling him she had rejected one of his best friends might not be such a good idea, especially if Race had known about and encouraged Jack's attachment.

"Um…nuttin'," she lied, "Jus' got bored an' thought I'd see what you guys were up to."

"Oh. What's everybody else doin'?"

"I dunno."

"Wow," Race said, "I was da easiest to find? I didn't know da boys all knew 'bout dis game. An' Jack said 'e was jus' hangin' round da Lodgin' House tonight. None of us could get 'im to do nuttin! I wonder what e's really doin…"

Race looked like he might be a little peeved, so Annie felt the need to say something. "Oh, well, actually, um, maybe Jack was at the Lodgin' House…sorta."

"Sorta" Race peered at her curiously, "Annie, eidder 'e was or 'e wasn't. What's up wit you?"

Annie took a deep breath, then expelled it, and with it seemed to go all of her confidence and determination not to trust Race. Her face crumpled, but she managed to hold back any threat of tears. "Aw, God, Race, I dunno. Well, I mean, I do know, but…I just-"

"Annie, you alright?" Race looked positively frantic, "Is it your Dad? He didn't hurt you, did 'e? Or was it somethin' Jack did? Dat boy's always messin' things up." Then, seeing her flinch at Jack's name, he yelped, "What did he do to you?"

"Nothin', Race," Annie reassured him softly, "he didn't do nothin'. He jus' – God, this is so embarrassin' – he told me dat 'e – dat e', y'know, likes me. A lot. Like, more'n 'jus' friends.'" Annie could feel herself blushing and sent up a grateful look to the dark sky for hiding it before realizing that her stammer let Race know pretty well that she was embarrassed.

"Oh." The wind seemed to have gone out of Race, transforming the belligerent young man into a solemn little boy. "So – so, what'd you say? I mean, are the two of you, y'know…" he trailed off.

"Me an' Jack?" Annie stared at him incredulously. "I'se sorry, have you never seen the two of us together? We'd kill each odder. Dere ain't know way I could be the sweet, shy little thing he wants, an' ev'ry time 'e tries to take care of me, I blow up at 'im!"

Even Annie couldn't mistake the dawning joy on Race's face as he said, "So you turned 'im down, then?"

"I had to," she sighed. "He didn't, um, take it too well." Then, seeing his angry expression, "Not like dat, Race! He jus' got a little mad is all. I think 'e was embarrassed. I was, too."

"So – so you don't like Jack," Race mused. "I always kinda thought you did. Ever since dat foist night we met you, when you was so happy to see 'im an' all."

"No happier dan I've ever been to see you guys."

"Why did ya come see me?" Race asked quickly. "I mean, Blink's da one who knows all dis kinda stuff, not me."

"I dunno, it jus' seemed –" Annie shrugged. "Blink's prob'ly out wit Samantha, anyways."

"Oh. Yeah." Race put his hands in his pockets and looked down to where his feet were kicking the ground, then glanced back up. "So where are we goin', anyway?"

Annie stopped suddenly. "Race –"

"Yeah?" he stopped short, too.

"Never mind," she hurried on.

"No, wait, what Annie?" Race persisted, quickening his pace to match hers. "I wanna know what you were gonna say."

Annie walked in silence for a few more steps, then whirled on him. "C'mon, Race, you know perfectly well what I was gonna say. An' I ain't gonna say it an' embarrass myself twice in one night, so you can jus' forget it." She stared at him for a moment, then muttered, "I'se goin' home."

Race stared after her, eyes wide, then started to run, shouting, "Wait! Annie, wait!" She finally stopped without turning around and allowed him to catch up to her. He put his hand on her shoulder and asked, "How was I s'posed to know what you were gonna say when I always thought you had it for Jack?"

Annie's jaw tightened, and, encouraged, he dropped his hand and continued hoarsely, "I never could – I thought dere was no point in it, in thinkin' dat maybe –" he looked down, "you were Jack's, y'know?" After a moment, he looked back up, hopefully, to catch her response. Noticing her shaking, he put an arm around her and asked, "Are you OK?"

Nodding, she turned to him and put her head on his shoulder, trembling with the effort to hold back tears for the second time that night. Finally, she calmed down, but it just felt so good, so right, to be wrapped in Race's arms that she just stayed there for a while, until he spoke.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," she pulled back and righted herself. They both took a minute to calm down, then she turned to him. "So…what do you wanna do?"

"Well," Race thought for a minute, "It's actually kinda late," he said apologetically. "I jus' dragged myself outta dat poker game in dere cause I gotta be getting' back to da Lodgin' House."

Annie nodded, "I better be gettin' back, too. I got woik tomorrow."

"I'll walk you back," Race offered.

Annie bristled, "I can take care o' myself, y'know."

"Yeah," Race grinned, "but it's a lot o' fun watchin' you get all upset over it. Besides, I wanna walk you back. But don't worry," he said solemnly, "if any big goons attack or anything, I'll let you handle 'em."

Annie rolled her eyes, muttering, "Gee, thanks," and forcing herself to relax as Race slung an arm around her, and they set off.

The two joked the whole way to Annie's apartment – during which time no goons, big or otherwise, attacked – and Race insisted on walking her up the stairs. This time there was a laugh in Annie's voice as she insisted that it was unnecessary, and Race persisted in his theories on "big goons" commonly hiding in staircases, "particularly in 'partments on dis side of da city."

Turning the doorknob, Annie asked, "are you gonna come check an' make sure no one's hidin' inside, too, or is it safe?"

"Maybe I jus' better take a quick look," Race responded, stepping in and performing a cursory look around. Annie's laughter was interrupted by Race suddenly stepping back with a startled cry. He grabbed the door to swing it closed again, but Annie rolled her eyes and shouldered through the doorway.

There, on the kitchen floor, lay her father. "Da," Annie breathed, wide eyes taking in the pool of blood trickling from his still body, the gun at his side.

"Annie, let's leave. You shouldn't see dis, Annie," Race's authoritative voice was lost on Annie, as though it was floating above her.

"Look," she said, in the same breathy voice, "there's somethin' in 'is hand." As she bent forward to see what it was, her vision blurred, then focused sharply on her mother's smiling face, still clutched firmly in her father's hands, before darkness closed in.

* * *

**koodles: **hope you haven't given up hope, because I'm still hanging around. Surprise! I will eventually finish this story, even if I'm married with children by the time I do! Wow, I've missed getting the Rachel to Rachel reviews.

**antiIRONY:** great name. I didn't even notice Annie's accent shifts. They're just such a pain to write; I think I'm quitting on the next story I do. If I can ever get cracking on that. Your reviews are tres similar to mine...I'll have to check out your favorite stories list. Those 2 statements go together in my head, if not on paper. And my apologies: I hate it when I get hooked on a (seemingly) permanently unfinished story. I tricked you though...it's only temporarily unfinished!

NEWS OF THE YEAR: I'm in college! Woohoo!


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